Pleading Sanity
by Dandylions
Summary: When Bark is mistakingly placed in a mental hospital, he must come to terms with the insanity that seems to surround him in every direction as he tries to clear his name and figure out why everything just seems... off. [Coauthored by Ciel the Hedgehog]
1. Welcome to Sunny Pines

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bark, Bean, or Nack. They are property of Sega. I only own my fancharacters. Elsie, Sino, Inia, Ciel, Rozik, and Gemini are property of their respective owners. **

* * *

Bark couldn't believe that this was happening to him. Him of all people. It was like something out of some twisted nightmare. Stuff like this happened to weird people. Stuff like this happened to his friend Bean. Bean was crazy after all. But Bark wasn't crazy. Bark was sane. Perfectly sane. It was all a mistake. Some horrible, twisted mistake made by the incompetent buffoons of Station Square's police department. He hadn't done anything to deserve winding up here. Not here. But here he was. And he had to stay. At least until things got straightened out. Then he would be out of this place faster than a rabbit out of a den of hungry coyotes. But until then, he was stuck here. 

The polar bear took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. He let the duffel bag in his left hand fall to the ground with a _whumph _sound. Bark stood there awkwardly glancing around the small room he was standing in. It was some kind of waiting room. There was a row of gray metal chairs against the wall behind him. An identical table displaying stacks of magazines was set in the middle of the row, dividing it in half. Bark sat down in one of the stiff metal chairs and examined the magazines. They might have been considered collectibles had they not been so tattered and dog-eared. He adverted his gaze to the wall opposite of him. It was painted institutional white. After all, it was standard for these kind of places. A framed picture of a waterfall hung right smack in the middle of the wall. It was if they were trying to make this place seem _friendly. _Like that was possible.

Bark exhaled and leaned back in his chair. His eyes flickered over to the glass paneled doors he had entered through, and for a fleeting second he considered making a run for it. But the ominous shadow of the security guard lurking just beyond them discouraged that thought. In fact, it didn't just discourage it. It gutted, stabbed, shot, maimed and destroyed it. There was no way he was ever getting out of here. Not until they let him out. Bark sighed and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. The air smelled of bleach or some other cleanser with a hint of ammonia. It smelled like a hospital. He sighed again and thought back to the circumstances that had brought him here…

* * *

The day had begun normal. It really had. Typical January day. Bark had woken up to the persistent beeping of his digital alarm clock. He had hit the snooze button no less than the standard fifteen times before finally dragging himself from beneath his thick, warm blue comforter. He had grudgingly stomped down the hallway to turn on the heater. Damn, it had been a cold night. He trundled into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. Yes, it tasted nasty as hell unless it had been mixed with what seemed like a dump-truck load of sugar and a gallon of milk, but it did the trick on miserable mornings like this. On the way back to the bedroom, he had opened the front door to get the newspaper… only to see that it was pouring buckets of rain. Talk about a storm. He decided against subjugating himself to the deluge, besides the paper had probably been destroyed by the rain by now. Perhaps, if he had taken the time to get the paper he could have avoided this whole unfortunate incident. But he hadn't. Instead he had slumped back to his room, taken a shower, cleaned up, and gotten himself the coffee. 

Bark sat at his wooden coffee table sipping at his sugar, milk, and coffee concoction. It tasted awful, it truly did, but he could already feel himself waking up. _Nasty, but invigorating,_ he concluded as he took another sip. For a brief moment he thought about turning on the television. Maybe if he had he would have seen the news. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't be where he was now. But he didn't turn it on. Instead he sat at the table sipping his coffee. As he sat there drinking the stuff he decided to call "coffee", he thought about the condition of his fridge and pantry. It was a dreary, bleak, and generally miserable day, and Bark would have like nothing other than to stay in his house drinking his "coffee", but his pantry was empty. It was about as empty as empty got. Same with fridge. Actually, if he had recalled correctly, there was a Tupperware in the back of the fridge with some leftover pasta in it. No… wait. Was that pasta? He couldn't tell. It looked more like some fourth-grade science experiment than any food he knew of. And while was out he should probably go to the bank. But maybe if had watched the news or read the newspaper he would have avoided the bank or the public in general. But he hadn't had he? No.

Bark had grabbed his keys and hurried out of the door, only stopping to throw on his raincoat and grab an umbrella. Double protection. He scrambled across the driveway and leapt into his beat-to-hell car. He backed out of the driveway and turned onto the road. And as he drove he couldn't help but think of the old Western cliché… "It's quite out there. _Too_ quiet." And it was. The street was empty. _Too_ empty. Same with the parking lot of the bank. It was empty. There were only three or four cars in the parking lot. Weird. Even though it was only around eight o'clock there should be more people there. It was empty. _Too _empty.

The polar bear had stepped out of the car, locked the doors behind him, and opened up his umbrella. The Western cliché came to his mind once again as he walked towards the double glass doors that marked the entrance to the Station Square National Bank. The only sound he could hear was that of his own breathing and pitter-pattering of the rain on his umbrella. Weird. He walked past the newspaper dispenser at the front of the store and stepped into the bank, closing up his umbrella behind him. Maybe if had looked at the newspaper vendor he would have noticed the blaring headlines: "Psychotic Polar Bear Terrorizes Station Square Banks. All citizens are urged to stay indoors until Station Square's finest has put an end to the maniacal rampage. This polar bear, last seen at the First Bank of Station Square, is extremely dangerous and a known murderer. If seen, immediately alert the authorities."

But Bark hadn't seen it. Instead, he walked right up to the teller at the bank counter. He was an agitated-looking kangaroo wearing extremely thick glasses and a tweed suit. He was staring dumbly at the desk in front of him, his eyes glued to the newspaper laying on it. "How may I help you?" He said automatically, hearing Bark's footsteps.

"Uh… I need to make a withdrawal." Bark said, reaching into his raincoat pocket to take out his wallet.

"Certainly." The kangaroo looked up from that paper and saw Bark. He froze. "Lillian, call the cops!" He shouted to aging chipmunk sitting a desk in the room behind him.

Bark opened his mouth to speak, "What the f-" He started to say, backing away. But he was cut off by the frenzied little kangaroo who had instinctively reached for the heavy paperweight on his desk and enthusiastically smashed it into Bark's head. That was the last thing he remembered before it all went black.

* * *

And that was how he had ended up here, at Sunny Pines Hospital. They called it a hospital, but Bark wasn't fooled. It was not hospital. It was a damn loony bin. A special loony bin reserved for the special whacko that had committed a crime. And he was going to be stuck in it with a bunch of said psychos. Great, just great. Just what he wanted to do. Spend time with schizophrenics, psychopaths, delusional sadists, and freakish, twitchy beings. Fun. Bark groaned and opened his eyes. He looked back and the doors. The security guard was still there, ducked under the overhang to avoid the rain that was still dropping by the bucket load. Bark began to wonder if he ever left. Maybe he had no life. Well, nobody here probably did. It was a mental hospital after all. 

Bark grabbed one of the brochures that were stacked on the table alongside the ancient magazines. He wondered how much longer it would be until someone noticed he was here. For a mental hospital, it seemed pretty lenient. He opened up the brochure (what kind of mental hospital had brochures?) and scanned the paragraphs, briefing himself on what to expect. Apparently, while he was here he would be subjugated to daily group therapy, in which he was to sit around with the lunatics who lived here and talk, art therapy, whatever the hell that was, be given anti-psychotics (there was no way in hell or heaven he was taking those), receive three meals a day, and be monitored by specially trained staff. Bark looked at the back of the brochure. Oh, goodie. They even had tennis courts and various other "fun" activities. They made it sound like a resort for crazy people.

Bark sighed again. This was going to be extremely stupid and a complete waste of his time. He only vaguely remembered the events leading up to his placement here, but he could remember something about being placed here for observation. He had also heard something about a trail for whatever the hell they thought he had done. Apparently he was to stay here and be monitored until someone found him a lawyer and scheduled a trail. And that could take up to six months. Bastards. If had to stay here for six months, he would be beyond pissed. Bark groaned again and massaged his temples. Why had this had to happen to him? What did he do to deserve this? He was interrupted from his mental ranting by a muffled cough. Bark looked over at the doorway on the one wall he hadn't bothered looking at. A white hedgehog around the age of nineteen was standing in the metal doorway.

"Uh… I'm assuming that you're Bark?" He asked, referring to the clipboard the he held in one hand.

"Yeah." Bark examined the white hedgehog more closely. He was wearing a white lab coat so it was hard to tell where the coat ended and his fur began. Bark swore he saw park of a vodka bottle peering out of the coat pocket, but the hedgehog stuffed it back in before he could be sure. Beneath the white coat he was wearing some kind of necklace, which he was fiddling with as he scribbled something down on the clipboard, as well as black boots and matching gloves.

"I am Rozik Arhinger, resident doctor-physician person at the Sunny Pines loony bin." The white hedgehog was mumbling without even looking in Bark's direction.

"I thought it was called a 'mental hospital'?" Bark asked with one eyebrow raised in skepticism.

"Yeah, whatever." Rozik said, dismissing the question with a wave of his hand. "Same thing…"

Bark remembered the vodka bottle and was beginning g to wonder if "Doctor" Rozik Arhinger was intoxicated. He hoped so. It would greatly increase the entertainment value while he was stuck here. Drunks were always fun to have around. "Okay…"

Rozik yawned and looked down at his clipboard again. "So…" He said to Bark, "I guess I should give you a tour now."

* * *

**There you go. Chapter One of my newest story. Kudos and digitally scanned cookies to anyone who can guess where I got the idea for this story. **


	2. This Is Madness! Literally

**Hello everyone, Ciel the Hedgehog here! Dandylions decided to make this story a collab between us, so we'll be alternating chapters. Right now, it's my turn! Sorry for getting it up late, but I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Just like the lobby, the halls of the "Mental Hospital" were all painted white. Every now and then there would be a chair, a door, or a picture on the wall, but that still didn't cloak the eerie feeling Bark was getting. 

He kept telling himself this was a mistake. Someone else was the criminal, and they had just mistaken him for the real thing. That was it. So why did he continue to follow this so called "doctor" through this place?

"'Kay, so here is the room where 'Group Therapy' will take place," Rozik explained, pointing absently at a door to the left. "Miss Inia's going to be in control of that. She's a nice kid, I s'pose." Bark nodded.

"So where are all the other patients?" He asked. The white hedgehog shrugged.

"How the hell should I know? I'm a physician, not a baby sitter." A black gloved hand almost reached into the pocket where Bark suspected the vodka bottle to be, but decided against it. "Nothing else to see here; let's keep moving."

The two figures continued on the tour, though the place was surprisingly desolate. Bark had suspected there to be loonies around every corner, all of them twitching and babbling incoherently. There weren't, however, save for one lone figure up ahead. Bark peered over his tour guide (which wasn't hard, considering that the bear was at least a head or two taller than the guy), and was both surprised at what he saw, and at the same time, it made complete sense.

"Hey, it's Bark!" The figure was a green-feathered duck wearing a red neckerchief. None other than Bean the Dynamite, though he seemed to be lacking the dynamite at the moment.

_"It's a wonder he isn't in a straight jacket,"_ Bark thought to himself, though he was glad to see the guy. "Hi Bean. You're here too?"

"Yeah!" Bean exclaimed. "I've been in here a few weeks now! It isn't that bad once you get used to it." The duck turned to Rozik. "What's up doc?"

The hedgehog's creepy pair of black eyes glared at Bean. "I'm going to disembowel you if you say that again," he growled. There was a pause as the doctor tried to regain his composure. "Seeing as you two know each other, how about you finish giving Bark the tour, Bean? I have some…work I need to finish." The hedgehog practically ran off after saying this (surprising, Bark thought, for someone drunk like that), leaving the duo alone.

"You know what's silly Bark?" The dynamite asked as the duo walked through the hallways a few minutes later.

The polar bear sighed. "What's silly?" A stupid answer was probably next.

"They put me in here for blowing stuff up. Can you believe that? I blew one house up, and they got mad at me for it. So I went back with an apology gift, and then they put me here! Wasn't that silly?"

"…Exactly what was your 'apology gift'?"

"A bomb. It didn't go off, though." Typical Bean.

"Lovely. Anyone else here we know?"

"Nack! Nack's here!" Bark nodded; that wasn't unexpected. In fact, it should have happened sooner. The weasel was a bit touched in the head, and prisons were easy for him to escape from. Besides, Bark was here for being criminally insane (at least, the person he was in for was), so why not Nack?

The polar bear suddenly stopped. Bean, who was behind him, ran right into him. Rubbing his beak, Bean looked around to see why his buddy had stopped. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but they could hear footsteps.

"Who's there?" Bark asked suspiciously. A muffled voice answered, but it was hard to understand what was said. "Speak up. Who's there?" This time, the duo heard the words.

"In Cyberland, we only drink Diet Coke!" From behind them, a cow emerged. Not just any cow, mind you, but a black-and-white cow dressed in a classic cowgirl get-up. She stood there, smiling. And smiling. After a few minutes of this, Bark started feeling rather paranoid.

"Who are you?"

"In Cyberland, we only drink Diet Coke," the cow replied.

"That's Elsie," Bean explained. "She says that whenever someone asks her a question, no matter what the question is! Watch." With an excited look, the duck walked up to Elsie. "Elsie, how much Diet Coke do you drink in Cyberland?"

"In Cyberland, we only drink Diet Coke!"

"With bunnies?"  
"In Cyberland, we only drink Diet Coke!"

"Two?"

"In Cyber-" Suddenly, a large needle was poked into the cow, and she fell asleep. Bark blinked, confused.

The owner of the large needle was a black cat. She was dressed in a nurse's outfit, which wasn't too different from Dr. Rozik's, except for a skirt instead of pants, and a small nurse cap. Oh, and the large needle. On the cat's shirt, a small nametag read, Natalie Barlow. Intern; Physician Assistant.

"Damn loonies…" Natalie glared at the two remaining patients. "What do you want?" Bark raised an eyebrow. This lady sure didn't seem like a nurse type. Then again, the doctor wasn't very doctor-ly, now that he thought about it.

"Nothing. We're just passing through."

The nurse eyed them suspiciously, and then grabbed Elsie by the collar, dragging her away. Bark thought he caught the word "straightjackets" under her breath.

Lovely. The first patient he had met was even worse than expected, and the staff seemed like total bastards. _"Great,"_ Bark thought sarcastically, _"Just great. Maybe they even let the insane killers walk around free here, instead of placing them in straightjackets!"_ Suddenly remembering that the person he supposedly was had been a murderer, he decided that this was a good thing if he ever wanted to escape out of here alive. And sane. Sanity would be a good thing to keep here.

"Uhmm, excuse me," Bark heard, as someone poked him on the shoulder. "Are you new here?" The bear turned around to see the next resident of this hellhole. It was another hedgehog, this one being black with yellow stripes, and dressed in a white shirt and boots. Two things immediately stuck out as being odd: a large pair of wings on the boy's back, and a set of unusually sharp teeth.

"I am new here," Bark replied. "Are you one of the doctors here?" He seemed nice enough to be normal, excluding the wings and fangs.

The boy shook his head. "No. My brother is, but I'm a patient. Name's Ciel; nice to meet you!"

Ciel extended a hand (which, Bark noticed, had rather sharp nails), which the bear shook. "Bark." He looked over at Bean for an explanation.

"Ciel's in here for schizophrenia," The duck explained. "He has this voice in his head that's really, really freaky. I've only seen it once, but they had to keep him in a straightjacket for a week!"

"…the jacket was kinda' comfy," Ciel muttered nervously. "Don't worry Mr. Bark, he doesn't come out too often." He seemed to think about something for a second. "Oh yeah, he'd like to say something to you!"

"And that would be…?" Much to Bark's surprise, the boy's eyes suddenly turned red, and he grabbed Bark by the nape of the neck, bringing them eye-to-eye.

"My name is Paranoia," the voice explained in a deeper, sadistic sounding tone. "And you, my friend, are not going to interfere with anything I do, understand? Otherwise, I may just have to…shed some blood, may we say?" Bark slowly nodded. "I'm glad we understand each other." The eyes went back to being yellow, and Ciel let go.

Second loony down, Bark thought glumly, and who knows how many more to go. Neither Bean nor Ciel seemed to notice what had happened, seeing as they were now chatting like old buddies. Our favorite polar bear decided to leave, seeing as Bean could talk for hours, when he heard the classic _ding!_ Of an intercom turning on.

"Alright, one sec…" Bark recognized this as Dr. Rozik, who sounded even more drunk than before. "All you loonies…I mean, patients…please head over to the Group Therapy room, alright? Get moving." The transmission ended.

"Oh, the therapy room!" Bean exclaimed. "This session's probably to introduce you to everyone Bark! Come on, let's go!" Grabbing him by the arm, Bean ran Bark through the hallways, leaving the bear to wonder what he was getting into. Maybe this meant he really was stuck here. Question was, would his sanity stay here with him?

* * *

**Dandylions here. Me and Ciel the Hedgehog are co-writing this story, so I'll be writing every other chapter. Anyways, reveiw and praise Ciel the Hedgehog's awesomeness!**


End file.
